


Targets and Targetted

by Boxysmiles



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Epsionage AU, Gen, Hansol Centric - Freeform, honeypot mission goes very wrong, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 07:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13003014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boxysmiles/pseuds/Boxysmiles
Summary: The mission is to take down a target at one of the high-class parties that Hansol hates. It's a pretty standard, easy job and everything's going fine.That is, of course, until Hansol gets kidnapped.





	Targets and Targetted

**Author's Note:**

> this is just me indulging my trash ass in some hurt/comfort  
> can be read as gen or whatever pairing it doesn't matter i'm here for that ot13 myself

“Do you think the DJ takes requests?”

“Vernon, _focus,”_ Jihoon says into the earpiece, addressing his codename. Hansol pouts a little, but at least Seokmin appreciates the joke, his laughter echoing in the background.

“Dude, there’s no DJ here,” Mingyu mutters, currently socialising on the other side of the room to Hansol. He stands out a bit due to his height, but Hansol’s glad for it - he likes being able to see the others, to know they’re here.

“Yeah, but I’m bored and this party needs some Drake,” Hansol says, covering his words by speaking into his wine glass. He’s standing alone, currently, at one of the small high tables, and talking to himself probably isn’t the best looking move.

“You don’t even look old enough to drink that,” Wonwoo remarks, and Hansol’s gaze shifts from Mingyu to Wonwoo, who is closeby the other, sitting on one of the fancy chairs with his phone in hand.

“Good thing I’m not actually drinking it,” Hansol replies, because he hasn’t been on a mission this big before and he knows a lot is riding on his shoulders - he doesn’t need any distractions, not tonight.

His target hasn’t arrived yet. Typical, from someone who thinks so highly of themselves. A twenty-year-old who directly helps and covers for another crew they’re fighting with. Getting into the party wasn’t easy, with Jihoon and Seokmin faking documents left and right - but they managed to secure Seungcheol’s unit.

When taking on the mission, they didn’t know how to go about it. The dude is _flocked_ by security, has guards and protection around him constantly. But there’s rumours of the son having a type. Hansol, it seems, fits it. He’s not too sure it’s a fortunate thing.

The rest of Seventeen certainly think it’s unfortunate - and while forced to take the job, find it stupidly dangerous. Which is why all of them have been working on this job, trying to make sure it’s secure. That it’s easy for Hansol to just lead the target to one of the private bedrooms, to let Hoshi’s team take it from there.

Seungcheol is standing closer to Hansol, and Hansol knows he’s still not convinced about his safety.

But this is Hansol’s usual role, to seduce the targets. To attract them with his looks and to hook them with his smooth words, his well-rehearsed lines. The team refuse to ever let him get past _talking_ with his targets _,_ but that’s completely fine by him.

The rest of them are still as protective of him as when he went out on his first ever mission, honestly.

The mission tonight, though, is _big_. And their target is dangerous, with a stupid amount of power, and they’ve been working on a short time-frame. It’s not an ideal situation, really, and even Hansol is feeling pretty nervous.

Which just means their protective levels are even higher than usual. Hansol sighs softly into his glass before placing it down, and he sees all their heads snap to him.

“Chill, guys,” he says quietly, smiling politely as someone passes by him. Those in his line of sight glare at him, and he’s sure all the others are too, before returning to their activity.

“Target’s arrived,” Jihoon says, and Hansol nods - knowing that Seokmin and Seungkwan are watching the cameras.

While Jihoon works on the overall plan, organises and orchestrates it all, the rest of his unit help him greatly. Seokmin is good at making the plans, at knowing _how_ to go about it while Jihoon figures out the _what._ Seungkwan, for this mission, is watching Hansol and Seungcheol through the cameras, guiding them on where to go, who to talk to. Seokmin is doing the same for Wonwoo and Mingyu.

Joshua and Jeonghan work more on the setup and cleanup of the missions. Joshua, good at communicating to all, at pacifying situations and playing the innocent victim card insanely well. Jeonghan can charm and manipulate his way around, usually working on recon with his quick and clever feet, and able to get out of any sticky situation.

“Vernon,” Seungkwan addresses, “target approaching from your right. Do not engage, he’s still got too many guards.” Hansol turns around so that his back is to the target, trying to make himself inconspicuous for the time being.

The target passes without incident, and Hansol feels a mix of relief and anxiety. There _are_ a lot of guards surrounding the target, and the target looks a little more intimidating in real life than the pictures in his file for it.

There’s a few minutes where Hansol stands around, taking a piece of finger food as it’s passed around, tapping off his microphone as he eats. He keeps it off as a waiter approaches him with a single glass - It’s better to keep the microphones off with casual conversation, keeping the traffic out of the comms as much as possible.

“Vernon, the target-” Jihoon tries to say, but cuts off as Hansol speaks to the waiter who is now trying to give him the glass.

“No thank you, I’ve already got one,” he says, raising his own, and the waiter smiles patiently.

“This is a personal gift, he insists,” the waiter says, and Hansol can’t mask his surprise. He takes the glass, and glances over at where his target is now standing, still surrounded by guards, but now looking right at Hansol.

Hansol does his best to smile a little, to act a little shy, and the target raises his own glass.

The microphone is quickly turned back on.

“Target just got me a drink,” he mumbles, raising the glass up and staring at the beverage.

“That’s what I was trying to say,” Jihoon mutters, “But I didn’t think he’d notice you this soon.”

“He was watching you so _creepily,”_ Seungkwan shudders, and Hansol just shrugs a little, because at this point it’s a pretty common occurrence for him on these sort of missions.

“He still is,” Hansol replies, and Seungkwan groans.

“Ew,” he draws out, and Hansol has to agree.

“Focus,” Jihoon warns, “Otherwise you’re going to look like you’re occupied with talking to the air.”

“Don’t drink whatever the hell that is,” Seungkwan says, and Hansol smiles a little as he puts the glass down on the table. He glances quickly at the target again, who’s taken to raising a questioning eyebrow at Hansol’s action.

Hansol doesn’t bother to elaborate to him, just flicks his gaze around the room again quickly. Wonwoo and Mingyu have moved closer, both of them joining different large circles of people to blend in. Seungcheol remains where he is, but catches his eye and sends him a reassuring smile.

The target moves towards Hansol, elegantly sliding his way past the guests trying to get his attention. Hansol watches him, doing his best to look playful and mischevious, making sure his attention isn’t taken away.

He approaches Hansol with only two guards, but he shoos them away once he’s standing at Hansol’s table, casually leaning an arm on it and leaning into Hansol’s space.

“My, aren’t you a pretty thing?” the target asks, and Hansol vomits inwardly, “Why did you put my gift down?”

“I already had a drink,” he replies, gesturing at his first glass that he still hasn’t drunk from. The other man hums, staring at it before looking right back at Hansol again.

“What’s your name?”

“Im Jaeyoung,” he responds, raising his glass in greeting.

“Oh, I didn’t expect you to be Korean.”

Seungkwan sighs for him.

“Born and raised,” he replies confidently. Which is a half-truth, but a complete one for his identity of Im Jaeyoung.

“Guess I’ll just have to learn more about you,” the target says, and Hansol smiles warmly at him.

“As long as I can learn more about you,” Hansol replies, fingers drumming against the table. “I’m not a very interesting guy, after all.”

“Ah, but you’re pretty, and what else do you need?” Is the response, and Hansol tamps down any annoyance before it arises. It’s his job, right now, to be pretty and look fuckable.

But it still stings a little, because it’s something he’s secretly struggled with. All the others are talented, have their own special attributes that help - and Hansol’s job is, really, just to look nice. It stings, a little. Knowing that in these jobs, he’s nothing but a honeypot.

 _Stop,_ he tells himself. It’s a road he’s been down too often, but right now is not the time for it.

“A good man in bed,” Hansol answers, raising his eyebrow. Seungkwan gags.

“Then I guess you have everything you need right here,” the target says, a hand gently wrapping around Hansol’s arm. He doesn’t shiver, but he’s damn close to it.

“I’m going to kill this guy,” Wonwoo mumbles, and Seungcheol shushes him quickly.

Someone is loudly announcing something to the room, and Hansol just barely manages to catch the tail end of it.

There’s a showcase in another room for prized possessions, it seems, and some of the guests are moving towards it.

“S.Coups _don’t -_ shit,” Seungkwan mutters, and Hansol very quickly and discreetly glances over to see the other being ushered along by one of the guards to the room.

Wonwoo takes the chance to move through the crowd in the moment, most likely directed by Seokmin, coming up next to Mingyu in the dwindling group of people he’s surrounded with.

“Don’t worry, let’s stay here,” the target says to Hansol, and Hansol looks back at him to nod.

It takes a moment to sink in that the target just spoke English.

While Hansol remembers seeing something about it in his file, the fact the man is using it is alarming as it’s certainly not his first language.

And he definitely shouldn’t be aware that Hansol can understand it.

“Fuck - Joshua, get here right now,” Jihoon says, having picked up on the conversation.

“What’s going on?” Seungcheol demands.

“I think he knows,” Jihoon responds. “Vernon, get out of there as soon as you can.”

 _Um,_ he thinks, because the grip around his arm has tightened.

“Hoshi, move your unit, assist in getting them out,” Jihoon orders.

“Shit,” Wonwoo suddenly says, and Hansol suddenly hears a commotion and looks over at the group of people that Mingyu and Wonwoo had surrounded themselves with. They’re blocking both of them as they attempt to push through to reach Hansol.

“You really are pretty, it’s a shame,” the target says to Hansol, fingers gripping under his chin to turn his head so that they meet eyes. He’s still speaking in English, and Hansol can vaguely hear Joshua in the background translating to the others.

“What’s a shame?” Hansol asks, in Korean, and hoping the ignorance play will at least stall time.

“That you’re not really here for a good man in bed.” The target grins at him, fingers moving so that his thumb brushes against Hansol’s lower lip.

“Who says I’m not?” Hansol challenges.

The target laughs. “Your three other friends here with you. Don’t tell me you don’t recognise those two over there, right?”

Hansol’s throat dries, and he hears Joshua hesitate before translating. He sounds worlds away, unreachable, and Hansol doesn’t know what to do.

“Ah, before you say anything,” the target says, then reaches forward, hand moving from Hansol’s chin. His fingers tap rhythmatically down his throat, chest, until they stop at the fold of his tux. “Let’s make sure no one else hears it.”

He pulls the mic off Hansol’s suit, and he hears Joshua and Jihoon swear in two languages as he pockets it in his own trousers.

“Vernon, don’t aggravate him,” Jihoon warns. Hansol takes a small breath in, feeling like something is trapped in his chest.

“So, those two?” The target prompts, gesturing to Mingyu and Wonwoo.

What would aggravate him? Lying? Admitting the truth? Hansol doesn’t know, but he’s pretty sure he’s fucked either way.

“Old friends,” Hansol confirms, and the target just smiles cruelly. His fingers climb back up the front of Hansol’s suit, playing with his buttons.

“Then you got into this young. Well, _younger._ Isn’t that cruel, raising a child to be like this? To be involved in situations like this?” The man tuts, tugging down on Hansol’s tie. He lurches forward, and the target grins at him again before letting the tie go. Hansol immediately leans backwards, well out of the man’s space.

The others are threatening the man, and it takes a moment for Hansol to remember they can still _see_ the interactions through the cameras. He swears he even hears Jeonghan, which is reassuring, because Jeonghan’s protective instincts are _terrifying,_ and being on the wrong end does not bode well for this guy.

Hansol isn’t one for violence, but he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t mind getting the guy across the jaw himself.

“Using you just for your pretty looks - ah, it’s a good bait, I will admit,” The man continues, hand reaching out near his face. Hansol lurches back, hands up to guard his face.

“Come on now, no need for that,” he scolds, reaching out again. Hansol doesn’t lower his hands.

The target sighs, then gestures to the group who have surrounded Mingyu and Wonwoo. They’re booted in the back of the knees, both sent down to the floor.

“Fuckers,” Mingyu mutters. Wonwoo looks through the gaps of people to Hansol.

“Don’t do anything stupid. We’re fine,” Wonwoo quietly assures, and Hansol feels himself exhale a shaky breath.

But he’s lowered his hands enough for the target to swiftly move, fingers reaching to brush his hair away from his ear and grab his earpiece.

Hansol reaches immediately for it, but the man just sighs and pulls away, gesturing for a guard to step up to give the piece to him.

“Now it’s just you and me, right?” The man asks in Korean, tone mischevious, and Hansol remains silent.

“Aw, and I loved hearing you talk,” the man sighs, exasperated. “It’s okay, you’ll talk soon enough to me.”

There’s something a lot more intimidating about the man now that the others aren’t saying obscenities about him in his ear, now that they can’t hear the conversation either.

“In English or Korean, I don’t mind,” the man continues, hand moving to grab Hansol’s tie again. Hansol leans back, out of his reach, and the man sighs.

“If you want your friends alive, then you’re going to comply with what I want,” the man threatens, and Hansol glares at him.

“Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to make this easier for you, and easier for myself. Come quietly with me, and I assure their safety.”

Hansol knows not to trust anyone promising safety, but at the moment it’s the most he’s going to get from this whole situation.

Hansol looks over to Mingyu and Wonwoo, still on their knees. The people have moved so that they get a clear view of each other, and when Hansol catches his eye, Mingyu goes to move.

“Uh-uh,” The man next to Hansol tuts, then quickly moves behind him and puts his arm around his neck. “I _will_ hurt him,” the man announces, loudly, and Mingyu hesitates before sitting back.

Everyone has their attention on Mingyu, so Hansol looks over to Wonwoo quickly who moves his hand to touch his wrist.

It takes Hansol a moment, two, before he realises what Wonwoo is getting at. There’s a watch on Wonwoo’s wrist, one that tracks his heartbeat and sends it back to Jihoon’s unit, one that allows them to track his whereabouts. And everyone is wearing one, including Hansol.

If they move, Jihoon will be able to follow him, which will make rescuing him a hell of a lot faster. And while Hansol isn’t keen on being separated, the realisation makes the idea a bit more reassuring, and it seems like the only way the others won’t be harmed.

Hansol knows the second they’re out of the room, he’s probably going to be typically handcuffed or tied. Which means they’ll discover the tracker. He knows he needs to work quickly.

He knows the man’s attention is on him, and with the target pressed up behind him any move to take the watch off probably won’t go unnoticed.

He looks at Wonwoo and Mingyu, hoping they’ll understand. Thankfully, they do.

“Hey!” Mingyu yells at the man. “You know, he’s really no use to you. We keep him out of plans because he never has any idea what’s going on.”

The man laughs. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is,” Wonwoo deadpans. “He can’t even remember where he puts his shoes, much less any of our plans.”

The man begins to loosen his grip around Hansol, beginning to move.

“What good is a pretty face going to be for you? If you’re hoping to take us down? He won’t know anything,” Mingyu taunts.

“Who said I’m trying to take you down?” The man replies, and Hansol sees the two hesitate. “I know he’ll sell for a pretty price, after all.”

Hansol moves his hands under the table, quickly working to take the tracker off his wrist. He hesitates for a moment, not sure where to stash it, but does his best to discreetly stuff it underneath the band of his trousers, hoping his suit will cover it up.

“Perhaps I just want money. Maybe I’ll keep him. A little toy to flash around at expensive parties, how about it?”

They all know the man is just trying to rile the two up, and Hansol can tell it’s working by the way that Wonwoo’s glare hardens, the way Mingyu clenches his fists.

He crouches in front of the two, then moves to pull a gun out of the inside of his blazer. Hansol freezes.

The man looks back at him, pointing the gun down and waving it in circles. “I know Jaeyoung isn’t your name, and you probably won’t give it to me, so let’s just call you Toy for now. Toy, come here.”

Hansol doesn’t move for a moment, and the man sighs before raising the gun to point at Mingyu. “Stop wasting time.”

Hansol moves forward, wary, and the man stands from his crouch to point the gun at Hansol. “Maybe,” he says, talking to the pair, “I’ll just shoot him.”

Hansol wishes for Seungcheol, in this moment. He’ll know what to do, know what the best course of action for all of them is. Will stop Mingyu and Wonwoo from beginning to move from their position, ready to spring up and fight. If anything, he’ll at least be a comforting last face to look at if the man does decide to shoot him.

He knows it’s unlikely the man will - but it’s never _not_ a possibility.

Hansol signals for Mingyu and Wonwoo to back down, because he knows it won’t make the situation any better if they move. They follow his gesture reluctantly, sitting back and watching carefully.

“I would let you say goodbye, but I don’t trust any of you. Come on, Toy, we’re moving,” the man says, putting the gun away before grabbing his arm. Mingyu goes to reach out, but one of the people crowding them steps in front. They create a wall in front of the two, with others behind them grabbing their wrists and forcing them behind their backs.

Hansol does his best to hold their gazes as long as he can, before the man swings him around and forces him to walk forward.

He stops, suddenly, then turns back to the pair. “If _anyone_ tries to come out and stop us, he gets shot, and you take his dead body home. The party will be dismissed in an hour, I strongly suggest you stay here until then.”

The guards move to surround Hansol and the man, and they begin to walk out the doors. They walk out, stopping in front of the large array of expensive cars.

“Get me the keys for this car,” The man demands to one of his guards, pointing at one of the less expensive cars. It doesn’t have a number plate, looks quite civilian, but it’s still enough for Jihoon to track it easily.

He shoves Hansol towards the car, then forces his wrists behind him. Someone hands him a pair of handcuffs, and they click on Hansol’s wrists securely. The suit makes the position extremely uncomfortable, the shirt and blazer sitting too tightly on him.

The guard comes back with the keys, unlocking the car. Hansol is shoved into the backseat ungracefully, the rest piling into the car. The remaining guards move to take another car.

The man sits beside Hansol, putting a hand on his knee.

“We have an hour head start, I think that’s enough, don’t you? You’ll sell quickly for a good price,” the man tells him, patting his knee in a mockingly comforting gesture.

 _Not enough of a head start for you,_ Hansol thinks to himself.

“And once you’re sold off, who knows where you’ll end up, so they’ll be distracted for a few days trying to find you. Leaving me enough time to sort out some more business.”

The car ride is mostly silent after that. Hansol wonders if Soonyoung’s unit moved in to help his, or if they’re going to wait it out for the hour.

The man pulls up his phone, and Hansol glances over to read the texts.

 **_Is it clear?_ ** The man sends.

 **_Party is going as planned._ ** Is the response. He tucks the phone away, and Hansol is able to read the time before the drive continues in silence.

 **_Guests have been dismissed,_ ** the man receives, exactly an hour later. They drive for a while after that, Hansol guessing half an hour or so, before the vehicle rolls to a stop. Hansol sits and waits as the driver and front passenger get out, then the rest, until the man drags Hansol out with him.

He keeps a hand wrapped around Hansol’s cuffs, guiding him forward. It’s a small lot, almost like a shed on a large property, with no surrounding buildings. No civilians. Just a small car and the shed, with a stingy light at the front.

He hopes there’s signal, at least, getting from his tracker to Jihoon. Letting them know he is wherever the hell he is.

The man stops him at the entrance to the shed, unlocking his handcuffs.

“Don’t try anything,” the man warns as he slips the cuffs off.

Hansol remains still, but flinches away when the man goes to remove his blazer.

“Don’t,” he pleads, because firstly it’s cold and and secondly, once he moves it, the tracker will be in sight.

“I won’t touch you. You’ll be more expensive if I leave you as is. However, try me, and I’m not afraid to lose the few thousand,” the man replies, and tugs off the blazer.

There’s a moment where Hansol thinks the other hasn’t noticed it, that maybe it’s slipped down and is hidden, but the man suddenly freezes and reaches for it.

This time Hansol jumps back, a hand over the tracker.

“Did you idiots actually not pat the damn kid down?” He demands of his guards, who look at each other nervously. “Are you fucking telling me you didn’t even get his damn _tracker?”_

They mutter nervously between themselves.

“Fuck! _Fuck!”_ He shouts, surging forward and Hansol stumbles back again, trying to stay out of reach. The guards move around him, trapping him in an enclosed circle.

The man reaches for the tracker again, and Hansol is so desperate to move away that he trips, falling on his ass. A guard comes up behind him and points a gun down at his head.

“I’m telling you, a few thousand is nothing if you keep acting up. Give me the fucking tracker,” the man demands, and Hansol’s attempts to stop him are weak as the man crouches down and rips it from his trousers.

Hansol’s confident enough that he’s stalled enough time that Jihoon knows that this is his apparent kidnapped hideout. He’s confident the others are close enough now, that they’ll act before anything happens.

The man hands the tracker to his guard to destroy, effectively cutting off the signal. Hansol is dragged to his feet, hands patting down every inch. His hands are cuffed behind him again, tighter this time.

“Change of plans,” the man declares, anger lacing his tone. “You’re moving with us for a bit more.”

He then looks at the men surrounding them, and roughly gestures towards Hansol. “Remember, I still want my money’s worth.”

The men approach Hansol, the circle becoming tighter and tighter as they surround him. The handcuffs prevent him from blocking the first blow as it lands on his ribs.

A few more hits send him to the ground, curled up in an attempt to protect his body. They’re avoiding his face, and he does the best he can to protect his chest with his head. If ribs break, it’s going to be even harder to move properly.

He moves his head at an unfortunate moment though, a boot getting him in the back of the head. He’s dazed for a moment, ears beginning to ring, head suddenly pounding.

He’s had a concussion before - which was his own fault, because Mingyu challenged him to slide down a wealthy house’s bannister and he promptly fell off half way down.

He vaguely remembers Seungcheol’s words, talking to him back at their medic bay.

_You’re going to be confused, and you’re going to feel sick and dizzy with movement._

_Oh great,_ Seungkwan had complained as he sat by his bedside, _even more confused than normal? We’re in trouble._

Which is definitely going to be an issue if the others are trying to set up something and he’s slow to react. But Jihoon usually accounts for the worst, so he’s hopeful.

The blows seemed to have stopped, and Hansol doesn’t realise it until they roughly pull him to his feet. The sudden movement makes the ground swirl, seeming unsteady, and the urge to throw up has suddenly appeared.

“Idiot,” someone seems to say. Mumbling follows, until someone steps in front of Hansol and grabs his upper arm with a tight grip. He keeps his head down, because lifting it up might actually make him throw up at this moment.

‘Where did you hit him?” The man in front asks, and Hansol remembers who he is and what’s going on. He’s suddenly not feeling inclined to hold in his vomit.

“Back of the head,” someone gruffs out, and the grip on his arm tightens as his head continues to pound.

“Well, if it’s not visible, maybe he’ll pass as just being drugged. You better fucking hope so, if I lose value because you’re an idiot then it’s coming out of your paycheck,” the man muses, beginning to walk back and pull Hansol with him.

Hansol stumbles after him, doing his best to keep his feet steady while he feels anything but.

He’s eventually shoved back into a vehicle, the one that was on the property before they arrived, groaning as his head continues to pound.

He does his best to fight off his drowsiness as the car begins to move. The last thing he wants to do is fall asleep and be unguarded in the the presence of those around him.

The drive is long, and he jolts out of dozing a few times. They’ve pulled up to an area of storage sheds, the lot remaining empty at the time of night.

The man beside him tosses the keys to the man in the passenger seat, who unlocks a door that leads to a corridor of more shed doors. Hansol is pulled out of the car and down the corridor until they unlock a door, shoving him inside the small storage area.

There’s nothing else in it except some dead bugs in the corner and a yellow light at the top of the doorway. He’s shoved ungracefully down to his knees, doing his best to breathe through the returning sick feeling.

The man gets out his phone, and Hansol’s confused for a moment until the man crouches a bit to focus the camera on Hansol.

“Smile,” he says, taking a few pictures. Hansol just looks away from the camera, doing his best to hide his face, until one of the men comes forward and forcefully moves his chin to face the camera.

“Fuck off,” he tells him, and the man laughs.

“Glad to see you’re in the mood to talk,” he says, and Hansol sneers at him.

He eventually puts the phone down, and the grip on Hansol’s chin is released. He’s hopeful that if the photos appear anywhere, Jihoon will be able to erase them before any damage is done.

The man crouches down to his level and pats his cheek.

“So, how about a name?” He asks, tucking a piece of hair back. Hansol moves his head away, and the piece of hair mockingly falls in front of his eyes.

The man sighs. “We’ll figure it out eventually. I doubt whoever is interested in _you_ will call you by name, but I think it’s best you tell me your name while you still remember it. I can’t say I know many who still do after a couple of years.”

Hansol remains silent. “Alright,” the man sighs. “I’ll come back in an bit, and I’ll let you know your highest price. Also, don’t think about doing anything, there will be guards inside and outside your door.”

He leaves before Hansol can ask him what he’s supposed to do for the bathroom. Two guards remain inside, and it leaves Hansol on edge.

His head is pounding even more now, the pain making him groan. Instinctually, he wants to cradle his head, but the handcuffs prevent him from doing so. Instead, he puts his knees to his chest and rests his head there.

Eventually he ends up on his side, his back touching the furthest wall. He’s curled in the corner, staring at his own knees and tries to stop the way his vision is blurring. He’s not sure how long he lays on the ground, having dozed off.

He’s awoken by someone patting his cheek. For a moment, he thinks it’s one of the other members and he groans, trying to move his head away.

“Up,” the person above him says, and it takes Hansol a few moments to blearily realise it’s not one of the members at all.

He looks up to the face of his target and he bites back a groan, closing his eyes for a moment before confirming that yes, it’s definitely not one of his members.

Slowly he sits up, back against the wall. He keeps his knees up, hiding into himself as the man crouches down as well.

“Would you like to know your current price?” He taunts, pulling out his phone. He whistles exasperatedly. “Wow, even this seems like a bit much.”

Hansol remains silent, just pointedly moves his head and stares along the wall. The man huffs, standing up.

“Think about it like this, four guard rotations until I close the bid. I’m sure the amount will double or triple by then.”

He leaves the room, and Hansol rests his head back on the wall. The two guards inside the space stare at the opposite wall, but their gazes shift to him as he moves to lie down again.

He’s certain that they’re the same two guards, and he has no idea how long he was dozing off, so measuring the time by guard rotation is useless until the next one.

Waiting takes a while, and he feels himself picking at his fingernails - but he has nothing to distract him, no member to gently hit his hand to remind him not to, and he doesn’t stop himself from doing it.

He keeps going until the next guard rotation, and watches as the men stand alert as there’s a knock at the door. The door is pulled up, the next to guards stepping in as the two inside step out.

They barely regard Hansol, just stand exactly where the previous two were standing. He begins to count the seconds in his head.

He gets to 1084 seconds before he loses count, distracted suddenly by one of the guards shifting. He sighs, then starts up again.

Roughly, it’s about two hours. He lost count plenty of times, but he’s pretty sure that in total he’s counted over seven thousand seconds. He’s not sure if there’s anything left of his fingernails at this point.

 _Two._ The second guard rotation. Halfway until the bid closes, and he assumes he’s going to be moved as soon as possible.

He doesn’t want to sleep until the fourth, so he does his best to stay awake. Even stands up, despite the stiffness in all his muscles, despite the places he got hit protesting, and walks around a bit.

The guards watch him very closely, but don’t move otherwise.

“Sit down,” one of them orders him suddenly, after minutes of him pacing, and Hansol stares at him. The man stares right back.

Hansol doesn’t move, and the man looks over at his partner before walking over to Hansol and pushing him down roughly. There’s nothing to soften the landing, no hands to fall back on, and Hansol winces as he falls ungracefully over himself.

The guard walks back to his spot before the door opens and two more guards enter. _Three._

One keeps his head down, interestingly, as he enters, and quickly glances at the other guard before mimicking his position.

Hansol knows he shouldn’t trust his eyes, shouldn’t trust what his mind is telling him - because he’s concussed, and he’s way out of it, but -

“I need water,” he suddenly says, and both guards snap their attention to him. His voice is gravelly, hoarse, but it’s loud in the quiet room. Hansol focuses on the one on the left, studying him under the yellowish light.

It’s Junhui. Junhui’s standing there, staring at him. Who gives him a once-over before winking.

Hansol’s gaze flickers over to the other guard, but they’re definitely not a member. That’s okay. Junhui’s here, meaning the rest are here.

Hansol gets his feet under him, standing up shakily. “You gave me a concussion, come on. The least you could do is give me some water.”

The other guard says nothing, but that’s okay, because at least Junhui knows the extent of his injuries now.

Hansol goes to step forward, up to the guard, but Junhui moves before him. In a moment, he’s at the guard’s side, jabbing a dart into his neck.

The guard takes a moment before he goes to collapse down, Junhui helping him go down quietly.

There’s a pause, where Hansol’s not entirely convinced this is real, that he woke up, but then Junhui smiles at him and goes up to hug him. Hansol breathes a heavy sigh of relief, but doesn’t let himself relax just yet. Junhui steps back, holds him at arm’s length, and scans him over again.

“I’m okay,” Hansol promises, “Just got kicked a bit. I can move.”

Junhui frowns but nods, reaching into the pocket of his jacket - a typical style that the henchmen are wearing. He steps up to Hansol and places the earpiece in his ear, turning it on, then gestures for Hansol to turn around. He does so, and Junhui crouches down, inspecting the handcuffs, and reaches into his pocket for something to pick them with.

“Vernon’s receiving,” Junhui speaks quietly into his mic as he works on the handcuffs, and the other end clicks to life.

“Sorry we took so long, we had to wait for the guard rotation,” Woozi explains in greeting. “There’s more men outside now, probably waiting to transport you. The rest of Hoshi’s unit are going to move in. Stay in there until we give you the all-clear.”

Hansol looks back at the door.

“We have a while,” Junhui says, keeping his voice low, answering the question before he can ask.

It takes a bit, but eventually the lock breaks. Junhui gently takes them off his wrists, dropping them to the floor. Hansol hears himself sigh with relief, bringing his hands in front of him and rotating his wrists around.

Junhui takes his wrists and massages them, then tuts when he sees the state of Hansol’s fingernails.

“Ah, and your lip,” he scolds, and Hansol removes a hand from Junhui’s grip to touch it. It’s tender, and he’s managed to bite it to all hell without realising he’s done it.

“Could be worse,” Hansol points out, and Junhui laughs a little at that, agreeing.

Hansol eventually sits down, still not feeling the best, and Junhui gives him his jacket for warmth. Junhui remains standing, alert and ready to move, and explains how they found him while they wait.

The tracker, as Hansol had hoped, helped immensely. The property he had first been lead to had come under an alias name for the target, one that - when dug through at Jihoon’s level - uncovered the human trade dealings he has previously participated in.

They had lost some time when Hansol had switched vehicles, as the lack of surveillance cameras around the area made them impossible to follow. However, after the account had surfaced with Hansol’s picture (which were now erased), they’d managed to figure out that Hansol was in a storage shed.

They’d been able to find which storage shed easily, as the target had barely bothered to cover up his name. From there, they waited until the guards rotated, and had subbed Junhui in for disguise to make sure they had a member in there with Hansol, and to make sure that no guard could get an upperhand by using Hansol to their advantage.

From here, Soonyoung’s unit - and the rest of Hansol’s - move in, taking down the rest of the guards, as well as the target. Hansol is intended to stay in the storage unit, just in case the target tries any tricks.

Done with explaining, Junhui takes to absentmindedly rubbing Hansol’s wrists until there’s finally something through the earpiece.

“Hoshi’s moving in,” Jihoon says, and they both stare expectantly at the door. Junhui moves to stand and walk towards it as there’s a knock, and then it’s being pulled up.

Soonyoung grins at Junhui before moving over to Hansol, crouching down and hugging him.

“Look what trouble you got up to all on your own,” Soonyoung teases, ruffling his hair, but there’s something thick in his voice.

Seungcheol skids in front of the door then, then bursts in. “Ahh, Hansol!” He shouts, enveloping him in a hug as well. Hansol falls back with the force of it, laughing, as his leader clings to him.

“Gentle! Gentle!” Junhui warns the leader, stepping forward and hitting him on the back.

Seungcheol quickly moves to get off him, gently helping him up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry about the mission, you shouldn’t have been left-”

“S.Coups,” Hansol addresses, knowing the name will snap him into attention. “All part of the job. It’s okay, I’m okay - Uh, mostly. But mostly okay. It’s fine.”

Seungcheol gives him a once-over as well before Mingyu and Wonwoo enter the space. Mingyu picks him up and hugs him, and Wonwoo also hugs him after Mingyu puts him down. They’re overlapping with their apologies, words fumbling over each other, before Hansol stops them.

“Guys, guys! I don’t blame you at all, I’m just glad you’re all alright,” he tells them, and despite their relenting sighs, he knows they’re not going to leave him alone for at least the next week.

That’s okay though. Right now, there’s nothing else he really wants more.

“I have the target,” Chan says through the earpiece, and the members in the shed look at Hansol wearily.

“Hyung, would you like to say anything to him?” Chan asks, but Hansol takes only a moment before he’s shaking his head. God, seeing that man’s face - after everything, after everything he threatened Hansol with -

He hadn’t realised it, but Seungcheol is hugging him. He hasn’t returned the embrace, just raises his hands to his sight to see that they’re shaking.

Seungcheol pulls away, but keeps a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” He asks, and Hansol takes a deep breath.

“Uh, my head hurts. A lot, right now. I just want to be home,” he answers, and Seungcheol nods before he gestures for the other members to go ahead. They do, reluctantly, but it leaves the two of them in the room.

“I have to ask this, I’m sorry. But that site those pictures were on - did anything happen?”

Hansol takes a few heartbeats to realise what he’s alluding towards. He shakes his head. “No, no. Nothing happened. I just got hit on my head.”

Seungcheol looks at him carefully before he nods, pulling him into another embrace quickly before leading him out.

 

* * *

 

During the ride home, he rests his head on Minghao’s lap as he spreads himself over the rest of the backseat. Seungcheol and Mingyu sit in the front, while Chan, Junhui, Wonwoo and Soonyoung take the other vehicle with the target, planning on dropping him off at one of the headquarters of Pledis.

Minghao’s running his fingers delicately through his hair, leading him into a light doze. He knows the members are talking worriedly between themselves, but he’s too tired to listen. Minghao, at some point, places an earphone gently into his ear and plays some of his favourite tracks.

He’s asleep after that, and wakes up on one of the medic bay beds. Someone’s blanket is thrown over him - Jeonghan’s, maybe, if he guesses.

“How’re you feeling?” Someone asks, and he turns over to see Seokmin sitting on the chair next to him.

Hansol looks around the room for a bit, trying to kick his brain into working gear. He’s here because he went on a mission, and because it went to shit. He’s here because he was a hostage and he’s here because he was rescued.

“Like I got kicked in the head,” he answers, pulling a face, and Seokmin laughs. The sound doesn’t hurt his head like he expects it to, meaning his head is doing a little better than before. Hansol notices he’s out of the suit, and has mercifully been put into cotton pants and a loose shirt, probably another member’s.

“Do you want me to get the others?” Seokmin asks, gesturing to the door. “Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Wonwoo and Jeonghan went to deal with the target. I think the dude is really going to regret everything, if that makes you feel any better.”

Hansol hums. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to be on the other end of their protective streak.”

Seokmin stands up, stretching his limbs. Hansol looks over at the clock to see it’s morning, now, almost 8am. He’s surprised, and it must show on his face, because Seokmin pats him on the leg.

“You weren’t asleep that long, we got back really late,” he explains. “Anyway, the others?”

Hansol doesn’t need to think about it. He nods, smiling. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Seokmin ruffles his hair before stepping out of the room, leaving the whole medic bay to his own devices. It’s a room he’s been in before - they all have, at some point, some for a lot worse things than others. All in all, he’s glad he got let off pretty lightly, but he also knows he won’t be let off lightly from most of their protective hovering.

He’ll probably tell Seungkwan to knock it off after a week of so, but for now he laughs as the other bounds into the room, dramatically flinging himself to the bed to hug Hansol.

“What did I say about concussions! Really, you’re the last person who needs them!” He pouts, but doesn’t release the grip that he has on Hansol.

Hansol pats the top of his head as the others begin to pile in. Chan and Junhui are rubbing their eyes, having been asleep by the looks of it, but Hansol knows that like himself, he’d rather be awake to see the other member.

They all smile at him and laugh at Seungkwan, and Hansol feels a lot more at ease. He feels like he’s been tense, on a never-ending edge ever since the whole damn mission began, but he’s starting to back away from it now.

Seungkwan reluctantly gives up his spot to allow the other members to awkwardly hug him. Jihoon is last, who just sits on the side of the bed and switches to his serious-leader mode.

“Seungcheol and I talked,” he starts, “The fact the target knew about the mission, and knew that you spoke English, means we need to withdraw you from those missions for a while.”

Hansol can feel his eyebrows furrow. Uneasiness settles into his stomach, because while he wouldn’t mind stepping back from being the honeypot, he’s not sure what else his role will now entitle. Will he be withdrawn from missions entirely?

“Stop,” Minghao says, flicking his forehead. “You’re thinking too much and chewing your lip.”

He lets go of his lip once he realises he’s doing it, smiling sheepishly.

“For the time being you’re going to be helping the leaders with planning, because we know there’s some good ideas up there. When the others are back and we’ve all slept, we’re going to discuss changing our approach to the jobs we take,” Jihoon explains.

Everyone in the room nods, and Jihoon smiles at him before sliding off the bed, letting the others crowd around it. Suddenly, they’re playing a round of Kai Bai Bo, until Joshua stands at the victor.

The others grumble but affectionately pat Hansol before shuffling off, moving to the other medic beds to lay down. Joshua hovers, making no move to join Hansol on the bed.

“You don’t have to share,” he tells him. Hansol smiles and shakes his head.

“I’d rather share,” he replies, in English, and Joshua grins before fitting his way into the bed.

When the others get back, almost at midday, it’s to a sight of all the members sprawled over the medic bay beds. Hansol looks calm, Joshua acting as a human pillow, and they heave a sigh of relief. Some others are sharing, but there’s still enough alone that the rest can lie down as well.

“Come on,” Seungcheol says with a quiet voice. “Let’s join the kids.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by that one interview where all the members pointed to Hansol when asked who they would rescue in an emergency or something and if anyone has the link to that pls send it I can't track it down again ;;  
> please yell abt anything with me on my twitter, [here](https://twitter.com/KBoxysmiles)  
> and I'll try and post my future fic ideas and such there as well :')
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are seriously appreciated <3 Thank you for reading!


End file.
